Injustice for All
by Yaoi Huntress Earth
Summary: Sequel to Turnabout Confessions. An unexpected encounter brings Phoenix and Franziska together than either one expected.  And with Edgeworth gone, Dick can only reflect on the choices he's made.
1. Chapter 1

Turnabout Confessions 2: Injustice for All

NOTE: The story takes place between the first and second cases of PW:JfA.

This was the day where Phoenix made one of the biggest mistakes of his life. Sure that lovely young woman with the short grayish hair and that fetching beauty mark under her right eye seemed harmless enough, but that's where he and Maya were wrong. And now he was handcuffed to an antique chair as his date went off to get something to probably torture him with. What would it be? Hot wax? Nipple clamps? A twelve-inch unlubercated strap-on?

_"Oh yeah, Franziska, don't keep me waiting."_ Phoenix growled sarcastically to himself as his mind flashed back to how it all started…

"Oh, what about her?" Maya said, eagerly pointing at a woman in her early twenties with medium red hair and a white beret making a fort out of creamers at the table next to them.

"No thanks." Phoenix sighed as the red-head giggled like a small child after knocking the fort down with the back of her hand.

"Then what about me?" Maya leaned over until they were nose to nose as she fluttered her lashes and made goo-goo eyes at him.

He placed his hand over her face and gently pushed her away. "Not now, Maya."

"Come on, you don't want to be an old maid for the rest of your life do you?" Why did he even tell her that he hadn't had a girlfriend since Dahlia? Not a serious one, mind you, just a few dates that didn't go anywhere.

That's when his date-depraved eyes came across her, a sophisticated beauty in little black dress with a simple white, long-sleeved jacket sipping a cappuccino two tables down. It was like she was in her own little world, immune to the hustle and bustle of the waitresses, the inane chatter of the people around her, and certain persistent little medium who gave a sly little smile as she watched Phoenix admire her.

"Not bad, not bad at all." He unknowingly said out loud.

"Then go ask her out."

He felt like a young teen again, as those butterflies that he though left when he got older return in his stomach as he slowly got out of his chair and turning towards Franziska. "I really don't want to bother her."

"You never know until you try." Maya chirped, giving him an overly-enthusiastic push; not knowing her own strength as she sent right into the back of Franziska's chair, causing her splash a swallow worth of coffee all over the sleeve of her jacket.

_"What fool would…" _Just as she was about to pull her whip from her purse, her thoughts automatically jumped ship at the sight of Phoenix; the man who defeated both Edgeworth and her father.

"Oh sorry about that." Phoenix pulled out a napkin from a nearby dispenser and attempted to dab at the stain. "My assistant can be a little clumsy." Franziska simply looked at him, ignoring the cry of objection from Maya. While she could recognize that spiky hair of his from a mile away, he just didn't seem like the man she theorized him to be. From the newspapers she had her older sister send to her of the case, Franziska had narrowed down her expectations of Phoenix being either a cocky, ruthless hotshot or a clone of her father not some bumbling, imperfect mortal that was trying not to look like an idiot in front of her.

"It's alright." As much as it shocked her to say it and then smile sweetly as if nothing happened, she just couldn't afford to blow her cover. As long as she spent planning her revenge in the court room, meeting her future victim this early brought on a much more interesting idea. "We all have accidents, Mr…"

"Wright. Phoenix Wright."

"May Karuma." She gently held out her hand, flashing him a sultry look that she hoped would draw him in. He paused for a second before his brain kicked into gear, screaming at him to kiss her hand. _"This is almost too easy."_ She thought the second his lips touched her hand.

"Maya," Phoenix turned to his assistant about to pull some money from his wallet.

"Don't worry, I got my bus pass. You two crazy kids have fun, ok?"


	2. Chapter 2

As much as he hated to admit it, maybe Maya was right; a date with a pretty girl was all that he needed. Especially one that was happy enough to go art museum for free instead of demanding that he blow his last twenty on an expensive dinner for her.

It had been three days since Maggey's trail and despite getting her cleared, seeing her sadly abandon her job and a possible love just because something bad happened to her filled him with the conflicting feelings of resentment and failure. How he wanted to comfort, yet scold her for beating herself up over her history of bad luck, but he had to keep his professionalism up and just let her rant. He often wondered if he just tried a little harder, she would've stayed and not broken Dick's heart.

While Dick always seemed to have that beaten puppy dog look when ever he was miserable, he looked even more down-trodden when Phoenix saw him morosely watch her as she drove off from the police station later that day. He hadn't seen him this miserable since Edgeworth pulled the same shit on him and the rest of the law community. Phoenix let out an angry sigh. There were times he swore to himself that if he ever saw his rival again, he'd punch him right in the face. _"You had a few bad spots on your perfect little court record, poor you."_

"Phoenix?" Franziska said, gently shaking him. "Are you alright?"

"Uh, yeah." He immediately attempted to snap himself out of his train of thought and on his date. "I was just admiring this painting." He pointed to Jean-Honoré Fragonard's "The Swing."

"I've always loved the Rococo era." Franziska wrapped her arms around one of his and leaned into it. "Papa and my little brother thought it was tacky, but I could care less."

Phoenix tried to find something intelligent to say about the painting other than how he swore that the man in the lower right corner looked like he was looking up at the girl with the big, poofy dress's skirt. "It sure is detailed."

"That's what I like about it."

"At least he didn't throw a bucket of paint over a canvas and call it "Red #4"."

She genuinely chuckled; it was nice to have someone who at least understood this stuff (in his own way). Don't get her wrong, her father and Edgeworth appreciated art like all cultured and refined men were suppose to, but the silly playfulness and light-hearted romance the era was infatuated with seem so bellow them. And if it weren't for her mother, she'd probably think the same thing too.

Even though Franziska only had five years worth of memories, mother made sure they were filled with enough art and sophistication that she could instill into her daughters and later Edgeworth before that foolish truck driver feel asleep at the wheel and collided with the cab she was riding in. It was that very love of art that kept her from breaking down. Papa would never let himself or any of his perfect little children cry, not even for mother, no matter how understanding the rest of the world would be. So she'd just run into her mother's studio and bury herself in the art books, wishing that she could retreat into "The Festival of Love" or play on "The Swing" and forget about everything.

She wanted to sigh at the foolishness of it all; acting all sad and weak. For once, she didn't feel like berating herself and not because papa wasn't there to notice. Wasn't sure why, but it actually felt kind of…nice. As proud as she was of her father and the blood of the former German nobles that flowed in her veins, having this one-time luxury of it not plaguing her thoughts had made her happier than she had been in a long time.

Phoenix gently smiled at her as they made their way through the museum. Could it be because of this man? It wasn't like she was some kind of dateless loser who couldn't get a man if she tried. Her mother's family of German aristocrats was more than happy to introduce her to the sons of their rich friends the second she hit thirteen. All such pretty, refined things that looked so perfect on the surface, eager to please mommy and daddy by marrying such a girl of fine breeding. But her career came first and many of them could not accept that. Papa may have let her sister drop her law career to be a homemaker for her rich, important husband; but he wasn't going to let his little prodigy get off that easy.

The ones that could over look it produced brief, quaint affairs with everyone on their best behavior with usually feeble attempts at love. She couldn't help wondering about Phoenix. She doubted that he'd be anything like Alger, that foolish, clumsy boy her then sixteen-year-old self had lost her virginity to that couldn't keep his elbows off her hair or Dieter who has an animal in the sack for her and every other girl that came his way. No! She had to stop thinking like that. This was revenge, not some stupid teenage dream date. Just enjoy these last few seconds, humilate the idiot, and fly back to Germany as if nothing happened.

"Wait a minute." One of the security guards caught up with them as they were about to leave. "We have a rule here," The guard cracked a playful little smile. "All couples must leave holding hands."

"I got a better idea." Phoenix said as he scooped Franziska up in his arms and carried her out the door.

She wanted to whip herself for the joyful laugh she unknowingly let out. "Come on; let's go back to my place." She whispered into his ear.

TBC


End file.
